


Breaking and Entering

by viola1516



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Post-Gravity Falls, Stanuary week one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viola1516/pseuds/viola1516
Summary: Created for week one of "Stanuary" on tumblr. The theme is home.One shot: Stan and Ford return to Gravity Falls after six months at sea only to find the doors to the Shack locked. The two, ever persistent, attempt to find a way into their home, Grunkle Stan style. Feel free to comment!





	

Stan never thought he’d be so happy to see this old rickety shack. 

After six months at sea, all Stan wanted to do was plop down in his easy chair, open up a bottle of expired apple cider, and put on some good old _Baby Fights_. 

But the Shack, as you would have it, had other plans.

“Well, we’re finally home,” Ford announced as he put his key in the door. He seemed to be talking louder than usual, but Stan couldn’t be sure. A seagull had stolen his hearing aid somewhere around Ireland, leaving Stan half deaf for the past two months. Stupid bird.

Ford seemed to be taking his sweet old time getting the door open.

“Let’s go, Sixer,” Stan grumbled. His feet hurt. _Hot belgian waffles, you’re getting old_.

“Hmm. It seems to be stuck,” Ford said, stepping back and putting his hands on his hips.

Stan groaned; he could hear his easy chair calling his name. 

“C’mon, you lived here too, Poindexter,” Stan remarked, stepping up to the door. “You just gotta-- jiggle-- it--a -- little,” he grunted, throwing his shoulder into the door while twisting the key upwards at a 70 degree angle.

But the door wouldn’t budge. 

“What the heck?” he exclaimed, frustrated. He just wanted to take a nap. 

Behind him, Ford was standing with his arms crossed, puzzled. “Did you never change the locks?” he asked. “Or at least get this one fixed?” he added, throwing some weight into the door for good measure. 

Stan shot his brother a look. “Why on Earth would I do that?” he asked, incredulous. “That costs money, pal, and this one worked just fine. Uh, until now.”

“Well, no matter,” Ford intoned, yanking his key out of the lock. “There’s other entrances into the Shack.”

Stan groaned once again and followed his brother around to the gift shop entrance to the shack. 

Peering in the window, Stan almost fainted. The Shack was… _closed?_ The lights were off, there was no one inside, and, naturally, the door was locked. 

Ford, upon trying the doorknob, sighed and pulled out another key attached to a surprisingly full keychain. “Let’s see if this one works.”

After trying three more keys, Ford dejectedly shoved his key ring back into his pocket. 

Stan crossed his arms. “Why do you have so many keys?”

Ford gave him a sly grin. “You don’t know what I have going on in my workshop.”

Stan rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the matter at hand. He really didn’t feel like standing out here anymore.

“Now what?” Ford asked. He looked just about as tired as Stan felt. The six months they’d spent out at sea were by far the best of Stan’s life. But the hard truth was that they were both getting old. It would be good to sit down and not have to worry about the sails, or the giant squid they kept running into, or the direction that the _Stan O’ War II_ was heading in. 

“I guess we could just wait it out,” Ford said, sitting down on the porch. “Soos has to be back eventually.”

“ _Oh_ , no,” Stan replied, determined. “Stan Pines waits for no one.” He looked up to the awning where the the iconic MYSTERY HACK sign was affixed. 

_Wendy thought I didn’t know about her hideout all this time. Heh. Stupid kid._

“We are getting inside today if it kills me. Now help me with that ladder.”

_At least Soos kept this old ladder. Good kid to have around,_ Stan thought as he and Ford heaved the heavy old ladder over to the side of the Shack.

Setting it down, Stan began his ascent. 

“This ladder is very unsafe, Stan,” Ford called from the ground below.

“Ah, can it, Poindexter. I use this ladder all the time, and it’s never failed me before.”

“You said the lock’s haven’t failed before either, Stanley.” Stan could hear the exasperation in his brother’s voice. 

_Worry wart,_ Stan thought to himself. _I’ll be fine._

That is, of course, until the ladder decided to break. 

The very top rung splintered as Stan stepped on it, but he was able to cling to the roof. Heaving himself over the edge, Stan sighed and rolled onto his back before getting up. 

“Stan!” came Ford’s call from below, voice filled with alarm. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He peered over the edge and shot his brother a triumphant grin. “The Shack is turning on ol’ Stan Pines, even after all these years!”

He could almost hear his brother’s eye roll. 

“Can you _please_ just let us inside?” Ford asked. “I want to shower.”

Stan put his hands on his hips. “Oh so now you’re worried about showering? Didn’t seem like such a big deal to you when we spent six months on a boat together, Sixer.”

“ _We didn’t have running water, Stanley!_ And anyway, you--” he stopped short. “It doesn’t matter! Just let us inside, _please!_ ”

Stan smiled. Knucklehead sure was persistent. 

“Alright, fine,” Stan called down. “But only for you. Now where is that trap d-- _Ah_ son of a--”

Stan was cut off by the sounds of a police siren as the car pulled into the Mystery Shack parking lot. 

“And just what is it that you two think you’re doing?” came the voice of Sheriff Blubs. 

_Stupid useless busybody good-for-nothing cops._

“Well, you see, officer,” Ford began calmly, when he was interrupted by Deputy Durland.

“We could charge you with breaking and entering, we could!”

“And we should!” Blubs chimed in, waving his baton. 

Stan smacked his palm into his forehead. “We _live_ here, you idiots! This is our own _house!_ ”

“Well, we can’t be sure of that,” Blubs replied. 

“Yeah,” Durland added. “We’re gonna need to see some ID.” He looked up to where Stan was standing on the roof. “And you’re gonna need to come down from there.”

Stan crossed his arms. “And what if I don’t?”

Blubs’s demeanor quickly turned sinister. “Well then we’re gonna have to put the both of you under arrest for breaking and entering.”

“Stanley, _please,_ ” Ford called up, his voice pleading. “Let’s be civil and sort this out. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

But Stan was determined to get inside, sit down in his easy chair, and watch some _Baby Fights_ if it was the last thing he did. 

“Well then,” Stan began, mocking Blubs’s tone. “I guess you’re gonna have to come up here and get me.”

“That is it!” Blubs shouted. “When I get my hands on you, you’re going to jail, mister!”

Ford stepped in as Blubs made his way to the ladder. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” he said, sounding tired. 

“And what are you gonna do about it?” Durland asked, right on Blubs’s tail. 

Ford moved quickly, easily disarming Blubs of his baton, and putting Durland in a headlock.

“Stanley, just get us inside,” Ford called over the two cops’ screams of protest.

But before Stan find Wendy’s trap door, he stopped short at another familiar voice.

“Mister Pines?”

“Soos!” Stan yelled, making his way to the edge of the roof to see Soos standing next to his old pickup truck. “Boy, am I happy to see you!”

But Soos wasn’t alone.

“Grunkle Stan, what are you doing on the roof?” Mabel called from below, stepping out of the truck.

“Yeah,” Dipper added from behind his sister. “And what is Grunkle Ford doing with Blubs and Durland?”

“Kids?” Stan exclaimed, suddenly overjoyed at the sight of the twins. 

“I can assure you, there’s a perfectly good explanation for all of this,” Ford announced, letting the cops out of his grasp, and taking a step back with his hands up. “But first, would someone kindly explain to these gentlemen that we meant no harm here?”

Dipper gave a sly smile. “Well, I don’t know about that…”

Soos, bless him, was quick to step in. “Officers, we’ve been expecting Mister Pines and Mister Pines. I forgot to tell them the locks were changed, so they, uh, couldn’t get in. But don’t worry, dudes, everything’s cool.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Blubs replied. “You all have a nice day.” 

And with that, he and Durland got in their cruiser and drove away. 

“Now that that’s over,” Stan began, “What the heck are you two doing here? And, better question: Soos! _Why would you change the locks?_ ”

As everyone opened their mouths to excitedly explain at once, Ford held up his hands. “Can we all get inside first?” he asked. “My feet are killing me.”

“Of course, dude!” Soos replied, pulling a key from his pocket. “Hey, Mister Pines,” he added, craning his neck to look up at Stan, “you can come down now.”

Stan sighed. Unable to find Wendy’s trap door, he made his way back to the precarious ladder. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Everyone had already settled themselves around the den by the time Stan made his way inside.

Mabel was chattering away to Ford and Soos about her time in the eighth grade so far, and Dipper, true to form, was taking it all in, letting his sister do the talking.

“So tell me,” Stan said, settling down into his old easy chair. _Fits just like an old glove._ “What are you kids doing here?”

“It’s spring break!” Mabel shouted, almost falling off of the old dinosaur skull in her excitement. 

Stan couldn’t help but smile. He’d missed these kids while he was away.

“Soos told us you guys were coming home, and our parents said we could spend the week here to welcome you home,” Dipper added from the floor. 

“I couldn’t think of any better way to welcome everyone home,” Soos chimed in. “We’re gettin’ the gang back together!”

As everyone laughed, Stan took in the room, once again filled with the joy and light of family. _His_ family. 

“So how was your trip?” Mabel asked. “You _have_ to tell us everything!”

Stan exchanged a glance with Ford before settling back in his chair and letting his brother do the talking.

It sure was good to be home.


End file.
